Tom Robason


My Sweetest Boy - Poem by Tom Robason

Dulce Et Decorum Est
My sweetest boy, I loved him best.
He was my heart, my soul, my life
I am his widow, was his wife.

They speed him through a darkening night
A chastened, hastened final flight.
They bring him home, his pain to cease
And lay my love to rest in peace.

Some tokens of a life in vain
Of death and honour, joy and pain.
Polished boots, an old kit bag
His coffin, draped in union flag.

Paraded through a sombre town
A howling, scowling wind blows down.
A gun salute with faces bowed
His family numb, his country proud.

The town clock strikes a deathly chime
A bandsman beats his drum in time.
The bugler stands to play Last Post
And send him to a land of ghosts.

This hand of death a cruel thief
A haunted Mother's endless grief.
Her son, who clasped her hand at birth
Entombed by unforgiving earth.

Topic(s) of this poem: death, warfare


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Poem Submitted: Thursday, January 28, 2016

Poem Edited: Thursday, January 28, 2016


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